


Growed

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faramir is under attack.<br/>Honorable Mention - 2007 MEFA Award Category: Races: Men: Other Fixed-Length Ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

"Am not!" 

"Are too!"  

"Am not!"  

"Are too!"   

The voices rose in pitch and heat. Boromir spurred himself forward. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in startled disbelief. One of the guards' sons was straddling Faramir, holding him down. Not thinking, not caring what the altercation was about, Boromir pitched forward and shoved the boy off his beloved brother.   

The lad went flying and Boromir knelt over Faramir. "Are you well?" he asked as he watched, sickened, as blood spilled from his brother's lip.   

The younger boy's eyes filled with tears. "He said I'm not growed."  

Boromir blinked, more than once. He stood and held his hand out. Faramir grabbed it and pulled himself up. Boromir noted the officer's son had run. He would find him later, he vowed. Now, his concern was for his brother. "Tell me exactly what he said."   

"We were playing soldier. Oh!" Faramir stopped and began looking around wildly. "Oh! Here it is!" He ran and picked up a toy sword. "I thought I had lost it." He looked up at his big brother. "He hit me with it and I..." Faramir bit his lip. "I cried. Then he said I wasn't growed. I am growed, am I not, Boromir?" The tears filled the little one's eyes again.   

"Of course you are growed," Boromir sighed at the term. "You are growing still, in fact. And well, too. I am proud of you."  

Faramir hugged him tightly, as if he would never let him go.  

The memory sent a shudder through the Captain-General of Gondor as he lay, panting for breath on the banks of the Anduin, the collapsed bridge off to his left. Faramir lay beside him - alive. His little brother had 'growed' after that year of loss, the year their mother... From that time on, Boromir had watched over and protected his little brother. From that moment on, during the many rescues of Faramir, the caring for broken bones, fevered brow, cuts and scrapes, he had protected his little brother. 'For what purpose?' he wondered.   

It hit him - full force. Took his breath, what little left he had, away from him. Seared his heart with such pain that his eyes welled with tears. It was in that moment that Boromir, Son of Gondor, was graced with the foresight his father and his brother had; the knowledge overwhelmed him - he would never live to be Steward. 

~*~

A/N - Inspired by a drawing by Kasiopea. I doubt if Boromir will ever consider his little brother 'growed.'

<http://kasiopea.art.pl/galleries/en/boromir>


End file.
